


Down the usual road

by soulhead



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Ex-lovers with benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28153293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulhead/pseuds/soulhead
Summary: In another universe, if Lewis was prideful and courageous enough, he would have cut all ties with Nico. But his old teammate remains so close, a taxi-ride away almost like he is taunting him. And to this day, he still hasn't been capable of stopping his fingers from typing his old teammate's phone number when the prospect of spending yet another night alone seemed unbearable to him. Just like he still hasn't learned to not let himself fall prey to the somersaults of his heart when he receives a positive answer from Nico.
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30
Collections: Motorsport Secret Santa 2020





	Down the usual road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnyFay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnyFay/gifts).



Lewis goes through each Grand Prix of 2019 with an idea nagging at the back of his mind. One that spreads even further in every single corner of his mind each time he manages to dodge yet another spontaneous meeting with the heads of Mercedes.

There's always a good excuse : the timing to hold talks is just never right, he needs to focus first on his current season and besides, his agenda is always too tight.

Anything really, just to stall any negotiation concerning the renewal of his contract beyond 2020 and to let himself entertain the thought of a life radically different than his.

A life where everything is put on hold, where all the travels, the noises, the circus...All of that stops.

So, on the 3rd November, when all the mandatory celebrations with his team were done for his 6th world championship, he pretended an emergency back at home forced him to take the first flight back to England.

During the entire flight back, his skin itched him, his breath shortened by an uneasiness that clinged viciously to his chest.

Then, as soon he lands in London, the tips of his fingers tingle him uncomfortably until he reaches his phone and busies himself by reading all the congratulatory messages he received over the course of the last day.

By the time his chauffeur drops him by his home, he still hasn't answered to anyone and he quickly makes his way through the pouring rain to his apartment.

Once the door close behind him, he's met with a surprisingly chill air. The sound of the rain outside being louder than usual, he figures out he must have once again forgotten to close one of the windows before he traveled to Austin. Once he closes the windows open in his bathroom, he quickly walks to the heating system set it up to a higher temperature and go boil himself a cup of tea. By the time he'll have drank it, his apartment will be a bit more convivial, at least he hopes so.

A hour pass, where he busies himself by going over some of his data from the Grand-Prix and unpacking some of his suitcase.

Still, the cold and uneasiness surrounding his every movement stubbornly remains rooted in his bones. Worst than that, he sits in the sofa of his living-room and doesn't know what to do anymore to busy himself. After he realizes that, his mind decides to focus on how his apartment is too silent, too still, too empty even after he brought home yet another trophy to adorn his living room. In his boredom, his gaze falls on the piano on the opposing wall he bought years ago on a whim, dust now clinging to its unused keyboard.

  
  


***

_[18 th December 2013] _

_When Lewis finally reaches his house, he's ready to drop on his sofa and not move a single of his toes for the rest of the week._

_Coco is going to be fine, he reminds himself the last words the veterinarian said before he regretfully left his pet behind him for a night of observation at the clinic. Her heart is only a little weaker than it should, but with the right care and medication she'll be perfectly alright. She'll be just fine, he repeats in his head to reassure himself._

_In front of his home's entrance, he fumbles with his keys before he unlocks the door and steps into the apartment, the pleasant smell of the pizzas they ordered the evening before still lingering in the air._

_In the living room, he can distantly hear the sound of a piano melody Nico has been practicing for the last few weeks. A small smile still manages to curl the corner of his lips upward despite the stress Coco made them go through when she stopped moving around and refused to eat in the last few days._

_Exhausted, he drops himself heavily on the ugly, small armchair Nico insisted to install in the corner at the end of the entrance's hall. Comfortably installed, he closes his eyes and sinks into its soft tissue. He only had Coco for a few months yet, the little pup has quickly taken an integral part in his life and he would have never allowed anything bad to happen to the pup._

_Still wearing his coat and scarf, the heat surrounding him and his tiredness make him feel drowsy. The distant melody Nico's been playing eventually stops after a few minutes, quietness now reigning over their apartment. He only vaguely notices it, his mind too woozy after he's already been dozing off to sleep rapidly._

_«-wis ? Lewis ?» a voice wakes him up from his improvised nap « How long have you been there ? Is Coco alright ?»_

_When he penibly opens his eyes, Nico's worried gaze scrutinizes him, as if in search for an answer directly on his expression._

_«Yeah, she's fine. The veterinarian preferred to keep her in the clinic for the night to avoid stressing her by moving her when she's still partially under anesthesia...» he croaks out._

_The news instantly appeases Nico's traits and he surges toward him to embrace him in a tight and reassuring hold._

_«I told you she would be okay ! Alright, let's get you something to eat, it's already 7pm, you must be starving !»_

***

A sudden small high-pitched noise startles Lewis back into the present time. He looks rapidly everywhere to see where the noise comes from, still feeling disorientated from being extirpated abruptly from his memories. It turns out to be nothing, just Roscoe only chewing on one of his noisiest toys.

«You miss Coco too, don't you ?» he whispers in direction of his dog who pays him no mind.

He scrubs his forehead in frustration and automatically reaches for his phone to scroll down his contacts list (as if he already didn't know the number by heart) until he finds Nico's number.

Resigned, he quickly sends Nico the same message he inevitably ends up writing to him almost every week, asking him to come over. The same one that always leaves him hating himself for being so weak-minded.

When he's done and waits for an answer, he can't help but feel a wave of disappointment submerges him. They broke up three years ago with all the rage, the bitterness and the burn it entailed. And in those three years, they've barely managed to stay apart for the duration of one before they fell back into old habits.

In another universe, if Lewis was prideful and courageous enough, he would have cut all ties with Nico. But his old teammate remains so close, a taxi-ride away. Sometime he wonders if Nico doesn't do this on purpose, if he's just always this close to taunt him by knocking on his door just to say « _See, you didn't last very long without my company_ » with this infuriating self-satisfied smirk of his. Lewis knows he can only blame himself for still being unable to stop his fingers from typing his old teammate's phone number when the prospect of spending yet another night alone seems unbearable to him. Just like he still hasn't learned to not let himself fall prey to the somersaults of his heart when he receives a positive answer from Nico.

 _To say we used to promise each other so much more,_ he recalls self-deprecatingly when he thinks back at what they used to be, at what he believed they would always be _._

How wrong he turned out to be ? 2015 and 2016 have passed by, the last straws needed to wreck every last foundation their relationship laid on before. And now, their relationship isn't even one anymore. It's a ghost, a remnant, a broken mirror of what they used to have.

Sometime he even wonders if it's not simply a dream he concocted. Nico could very well be an ocean away, living the loving life Lewis always dreamed to experience with someone else. He could lives with a beautiful and caring partner, just as intelligent as he is. One that would be able to challenge him, to guide him through his myriad of projects he's always working on whenever they meet. And Lewis could be just dreaming up every time Nico appears on his threshold; of every nights where Nico's lithe body fits so well into his, of the weight of a pair of arm around his waist and the warmth their bring him.

The blond locks tickling the tip of his nose, his hands cradling Nico's head against his chest,the sound of an open, genuine laugh when Lewis's own stubble tickled the skin over Nico's shoulder : his mind could very well conjures up those images into his eyes while Lewis could still be sat into his sofa, starring blankly at the wall of his living room, alone.

But even if it's all just a stupid, pathetic dream, he somehow always has to wake up from it, doesn't he ?

He always has to stop dreaming at some point and realize he's back in 2019, where the version of Nico into his arms is different than the one that occupies most of his memories : a set of almost unnoticeable wrinkles have appeared on the crinkle of his eyes and his face is more relaxed, free of the constant pressure competing in F1 put under him, free of the strain it put in their past relationship.

The thing is, it may not be the same Nico in front of him but he's not the same Lewis either.

For a few hours, it all doesn't matter anyways when both of them are tangled in sheets and only focusing on quenching their common desire. It feels like the version of Nico he could love freely is back into his hold. And there, both his legs straddling either side of Nico's waist, he feels at home whether it's the year 2013 or 2019.

Nothing else matters.

But then, because his dreams can't be perpetual, he wakes up from it like he always does : with the sound of discreet footsteps slipping out of his house and a door being closed silently.

Disoriented for a second, his limbs tense immediately as he turns himself on the other side of the bed and his back only meets cold, empty sheets instead of a warm, solid chest.

A long and heavy sigh leaves his mouth, his heart beating loudly against his ribcage : just like he arrived, Nico's already gone in a matter of second..

He squeezes his eyes painfully tight, willing a wave of nausea down.

It would probably take him en entire week to trace back every single event that brought them to this point where each of their meeting leaves Lewis ever more empty.

When he'll retire, he's even almost sure it's all he'll ever think about.

Not the wins, not the glory of his podiums.

But every single mind trick they pulled on each other, every single race where they actively worked against each other and every single word they both should have held up but didn't.

And so, for a time, Lewis remains motionless in his bed and watches as the few rays of light filter through the white curtains of his room.

An indefinite amount of time later, he hears the sound of Roscoe's steps approaching. Soon enough, his dog jumps on the bed, somehow managing to slip under his sheets, his humid snout pressing against his left arm. Lewis doesn't have it in his heart to reprimand his dog for stepping on his bed and he finds himself seeking Roscoe's warmth. _His own little portable heater_ , he thinks fondly as little snores soon escapes him with every breath the animal takes.

For long minutes, he absentmindedly let his hand caress the animal's fur and will himself to empty his mind.

It's only when 9 o'clock quickly approaches that he decides to get out of his bed to at least feed Roscoe. Sitting up on the bed, he rubs a hand to his face before sighing loudly. He has nothing to do today. No race to prepare for just yet, no training planned, no call with Bono and no interview.

And yet, exhaustion clings to his bone with every step he take to the kitchen.

When he enters the piece, he blindly reaches for the lightswitch, Roscoe following energetically behind.

«Roscoe !» he admonishes his pet when he sees his dog's bowl has already been filled «You need to stop manipulating every guests we have to feed you !»

His dog whines in response, almost as if understood his reprimand and Lewis can't resist petting lightly his head before he turns on the radio and prepares himself a bowl of porridge.

In his fridge, he finds a glass of a green smoothie on the top level. He closes his eyes when he tastes kiwis and bananas blending together in his mouth with a hint of honey, memories flashing vividly in his irises.

***

_[02 nd June 2020_ _]_

_«No ! Don't eat those !» he says, shoving away from Nico's fingers the container of blueberries they just bought from the local market._

_«Come on, I carried the entire grocery bag all the way back home and now I can't even eat anything ?» his lover answers with a childish pout on his face._

_«Exactly ! You're here to help me out. Now get to work and peel those apples, I'm tired of you always drinking my glass of smoothie, so you better listen to every steps of the recipe and starts making them yourself next time !»_

_Busying himself in washing the blueberries under the sink's water, he startles when he feels a cold hand sneak under his chest and a pair of lips kissing the skin of his collarbone._

_«How about we first go cool off in the pool for a while ?» Nico proposes slowly, interrupting his words each time he leaves a new trail of kisses on his shoulder. For a while, Lewis leans his weight against Nico's chest and revels in the familiar warmth that drapes over his back. His proposal is incredibly tempting, another lazy afternoon spent together under the golden light of the sun._

_«Nope.» he eventually says as he pulls his own back away of Nico's chest. «No more slacking off today !It's all we've done for the past week. Today is about learning ! !»_

_With a disappointed sigh, Nico eventually puts himself to work next to Lewis, ignoring the space left on all the unused countertops next to them._

_As their shoulders touch, Lewis guides him on each step to follow for his recipe and even though Nico makes a show of complaining every two minutes, they both are smiling contentedly._

_A fresh batch of smoothies and a pie in the oven later, they eventually leave the kitchen behind them once they decorated it with new stains of blueberries on the floor and left the sink overfilled with all the tools they used. To Nico's great satisfaction, Lewis follows him to the pool where he can take all his time to hold Lewis against him and feel the softness of his skin against his._

_And if they come back a hour later to a carbonized apple pie sitting sadly in the oven, Nico kisses any disappointment away of Lewis's face._

_***_

Now, five years later it seems Nico still remembers his recipe, how he always added a touch of honey to bring out the sweetness of the kiwi's aroma.

And he hates it.

He hates how Nico can destabilize him like that even after leaving his house for hours already, how powerless it makes him feel.

Impulsively, he throws the smoothie in the sink, the drink spilling slowly against the granite before he turns the water and watch it wash the liquid down the drain.

A few moments later, a small bark startles him from his daze.

«Let's go on a walk Roscoe, alright ?» he says to his dog, his voice breaking through the suffocating silence of his apartment. _He needs to get out, now or he'll grow mad._

Once outside, he walks aimlessly through the neighborhood's park. He keeps his head low, either to avoid being recognized or simply because he doesn't have the energy to keep a good posture.

Under his feet, red or yellow leaves litters the ground he and Roscoe follow. His heart feels hollow and tight in his chest when he thinks about how this time is supposed to be his favorite of the year. Instead, he's just moping around and he's tired of thinking the same thoughts over and over, tired of not being able to live his life like he should be.

In need of a distraction from his bleak day, he checks the notification on his phone. He finds one, when he reads the message of a group of his friends inviting him to the inauguration of a hyped club in the east of London. He accepts instantly the invitation, relief washing over him now that he knows he won't be holed up in his house for another night.

There was a time where he used to love nothing more than to stay cocooned into his own home, he thinks self-deprecatingly. It was back when his apartment felt like a home, before every single room reminded him insidiously of how alone he was. 

With those thoughts filling his brain, he impatiently waits for the day to pass before he exits his apartment with fire on his heels by 7pm.

Once he reaches the club, he lets himself be guided by one of his friend's hand in the middle of the main room. Music blasts loudly all around him, nameless people already dancing and an unidentified glass is shoved in his hand. He remains still for a moment, a stark contrast to the bodies moving near him and the light moving frantically around him.

Closing his eyes, he ignores all usual precautions and drinks the blue glass' content in one go. When he reopens them his feet are already guiding him to the bar.

Under the dim light of the club, it's easier to pretend he's doing alright and if that fails, another drink might just be what he needs. It's at least what he thinks when his traits loosen up each time he feels the burn of the alcohol down his throat.

And for a few blessed hours, his brain stops replaying over and over the same sentence : «You're alone».

He's _not_.

He has thousands of people surrounding him, his friends around him.

And he'll dance among all of them until he'll convince himself of that.

Progressively, his thoughts become more jumbled with the alcohol coursing through his veins and he closes his eyes to let himself be carried away by the tune playing.

When he reopens them, he puzzledly notices how he's not in the middle of the dance floor anymore, the dark lights now giving room to a painfully white light surrounding him as his hands take support on a sink. His sluggish brain starts to panic, disorientated as he is.

«-eone to bring you back home ?» a stranger's voice brings him out of his daze suddenly.

«What ?» he only manages to muster up in answer, his throat feeling painfully dry.

«Do you have someone to bring you back home ?»

«I- How did I get there ?» he asks, feeling suddenly dizzy as he passes a trembling hand over his sweaty forehead.

«Man, you're trashed, that's how ! You vomited all over my mate's shoes !»

«Sorry...» Lewis answers weakly, suddenly feeling his own eyelids grow very heavy.

«Give me your phone !» the person over him orders him sternly. It's the last thing he does before crouching down on the floor of the bathroom he somehow got into. While the stranger busies himself ringing the first name he can find, Lewis lets his forehead rests on the cold wall to try to calm the throb in his head.

For what seems like an eternity, he's stuck there with the muffled sound of music outside and the awkward stranger occasionally checking up on him. Then, he feels a gentle hand pass around his waist. Suddenly back on his two swaying feet, he leans his weight heavily on the warm chest he's taking support on.

«-ank you for calling me !» the familiar voice says before fingers grazes his cheek.

«No problem, don't know how he could have gone back home in one piece in the state he is...» he hears the stranger says before he's led outside of the bathroom, where aggressive music pierces painfully his eardrums.

_He shouldn't have drunk so much, what the hell was he thinking ?_ He grumbles under his breath.

Everyone is too close to him, carelessly pushing him, hurting his every muscles. His ears ring painfully loudly and every step takes his breath out. When they finally exit the club, he instantly start feeling slightly better when a relative quietness begins to surround him. His legs still feel wobbly, ready to give up on him at any moment.

«Did you take anything ?» the same familiar voice asks him, this time with an urgent tone.

With those words, he looks up to see the person that carried him outside. He instantly lower his gaze before putting his hands to his face when he's met with the worried expression on Nico's face.

_Not him, everyone but him !_ He languishes in his mind while cursing the stranger for ringing the worst name possible on his contact list.

«N-no, just one or two shots I shouldn't have...»

«Okay, that's good. I'll bring you home now, alright ?» his old rival reassures him, before he clumsily takes off his own jacket to lay it softly around his shoulder. Then, his arm pass behind Lewis's waist to guide him to his car.

As soon as he reaches out the front seat, Lewis closes his eyes and he feels himself drift off almost instantly in a blessed void.

Stuck between being half-awake and half-asleep, he lets himself be lulled by the city's moving lights and only truly wakes up when Nico's car pulls into the parking lot down below his apartment.

From the corner of his eyes, he watches him as he turns off the engine of his car. Lewis's own skin feels too tight around his bones, a deep sense of helplessness reaching him as he realizes how trapped he is. 

_ It's always the same circle of events that catch up to him.  _

Obsessing about Nico and the loss he makes him feel, trying to run away from his thoughts, just to be confronted by Nico once again and repeat.

When their gaze cross, Lewis nervously shifts his eyes to his feet and instantly regrets his sudden movement when a new wave of nausea threatens to overwhelm him. This time however anger also starts to boil in his head.

_ Why can't he just escape him for one single evening ? Does Nico take some kind of twisted pleasure to watch him vulnerable like that ? Didn't he get enough already ? _

Obvious to Lewis's inner thoughts, Nico's carefully helps him out of the car and Lewis curses at himself for once again having no choice but to rely on his arm to keep his balance.

Ever so slowly, they make their way to Lewis's apartment and it seems like an entire hour pass until his back lays on his bed. By now, Lewis's mind is entirely inhabited by pent up frustration at his situation, wanting to find anything to stop Nico from wearing this concerned gaze when it's all obviously for show.

Yet, feeling woozy and overly tired, Lewis starts to fall in and out of sleep for the next minutes before the alcohol in his veins knocks him out entirely.

When he eventually emerges from his slumber, it's with a killer headache and the sound of the BBC's radio broadcast playing softly in his living-room. _Why didn't Nico leave already ?_ He grumbles under his breath to himself. Difficultly, he stands up from his bed to reach the bathroom. Uncoordinated as he is after his night, he accidentally knocks down his bedside lamp before giving up and sitting down on the edge of his bed. 

Soon enough, he hears Nico come near his bedroom.

«Here, drink that.» his old rival says softly as he hands him a glass of water to him but he pushes it away with the back of his hand.

«Stop !» he impulsively shout «Stop acting like you care, please.»

«Lewis...»

«No ! Just stop it ! I don't know what you keep pretending ! Why can't you just leave me alone, I don't need you around !» he rants, his voice breaking by the end of his sentence.

«Because I care !» Nico raises his voice before stopping himself, visibly shocked by his own outburst «Because I was in the middle of a meeting with an executive at Sky when I got a call from some stranger using your phone, telling me you were passed out in some seedy club and I dropped everything to come help you ! Because I still care even when all you've done is making me pay for mistakes _we_ both did 3 years ago !» he finishes heatedly.

For a moment, neither of them speak and their gaze avoid each other.

They never speak about this, about their relationship. They kiss and fuck, then leave each other's live before Lewis call Nico again.

But they never speak.

«I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I screamed like that...» his old teammate eventually breaks the silence between them. 

«I just want it to stop...» Lewis answers, perturbed by how lost Nico sounds.

«But you could make it stop if you wanted. You delete my number and once I'm out of your apartment,that's it you'll never see me. You could have done that a thousand times and yet you didn't. It's...It's why I come back to you each time you ask me to come over, because I know neither of us want it to be over.»

As Lewis listens to every word Nico says, he tries to blink away the tears that have started to well up in his eyes without success. 

It's not fair for either of them, he knows it. Lewis doesn't even want what they have to stop but he feels at his very limits. His love for racing is gone, stretched thin by all the stress, the emptiness that pursues him every moment of the day. _It needs to stop._

He startles from the whirlwind of thoughts seizing his mind when one of Nico's thumb gently dry the tear tracks on his left cheek. Rapidly though, Nico takes away his hand and put it back on his lap, as if afraid Lewis will bat it away.

His head hurts and with the alcohol still coursing through his veins, each words pronounced by Nico echoes deep in his head painfully loudly.

After a long moment, he finally speaks up, forgetting all the walls he usually has up whenever Nico's around. Maybe because he's drunk and can't keep them in, maybe because he can't find the strength anymore.

«If...If both of us want the same thing then, what do we do from now on ? We just talk it out and pretend nothing in the last four years have happened ? You know we can't...» he chuckles at the impossibility of his proposal.

«I'm not proposing that, but-» Nico interrupts himself for a second, his gaze unsure «We...We have to look forward. You want something out of me when you keep calling me back. You want to go back to how we used to be and I can't give you that if you don't allow me back into your life fully !»

Silence grows back once he is finished and Lewis takes in how Nico looks ready to bolt at any second away of him, expecting to receive cruel, mocking words in return. He's far from the picture of the bold, young Nico he once was by his side.

This version of his ex-lover lost some its shine and a good chunk of his confidence.

But it's still Nico, with his soft and delicate looks, his irises that shines with a glint of love whenever their eyes meets. Still and always Nico.

So, he drops his weapons and surrenders, not ready for yet another battle.

Lewis silently reaches for his old rival's hand and squeeze it lightly, before he lets his index grazes the palm of Nico's hand.

It's a simple contact, an almost insignificant one.

But as their eyes finally meet, this gesture means something deeper than that :

It says «No, we can't start again with a clean slate.»

_ But we'll try anyway. _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna make a small gift fic, it'll be fun, I'll learn how to do small oneshot and tell stories under 2000 words, I told myself before I ended up writing yet another 8 pages of text !!!!


End file.
